Harry Potter's Time Traveling Tale
by hummingpetal
Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Give this one a chance.
1. Chapter 1

_I am simply borrowing this wonderful world of magic for a while to daydream in; all characters and ideas that can be recognized belong to J.K. Rowling._

* * *

**Harry Potter's Time Traveling Tale**

**Prologue**

Harry groaned, slowly forcing is eyes open as he swam back into consciousness. Blearily, one hand searched around in an effort to locate his glasses while the other pushed him up into a seated position.

His mind was racing – had it worked?

His hand closed around the rim of his broken glasses, and he shoved them onto his face eagerly before immediately closing his eyes. He sat there, in the dark, trying to steady his breathing. What if it hadn't worked?

He was nervous, his heart beating as if he'd just run a marathon. Hermione had said this was the last chance; she had no more energy to try again. Not that that would matter anyways, he thought grimly. The blur of images and sound he'd last registered before he'd lost consciousness rose to the forefront of his mind; he saw the jinx flying towards them, the protective wall Ginny, Neville, Luna and Ron had formed while the light began surrounding them. He'd seen it break, he'd watched helpless as they crumpled before his eyes. Hermione's agonized yet hopeful gaze as she'd finished the incantation and locked the spell; one way or another they knew that instant was the last goodbye, no matter how things turned out. Nothing would ever be the same.

He blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill down his cheeks and latched onto that feeble yet persistent ball of hope that simply refused to disappear even after all these years.

Come on Harry, he thought, where's that Gryffindor courage you're so proud of?

This was the third time Hermione's tried; it must have worked. It just must have.

Suddenly unable to take it any longer, he opened his eyes and found himself… in the cupboard under the stairs of number 4, Privet Drive.

Yes!


	2. Chapter 2

_I still own nothing ! It all belongs to J.K.R J_

**Chapter 1**

Yes! He thought to himself happily, yes, yes, yes!

Relief flooded over him as he registered his surroundings, his shoulders lighter than they'd felt in years. He had a second chance now; he could fix everything.

He quickly gathered his thoughts and reflected on what to do next. Today should be the 6th of July 1995, about two weeks before his 11th birthday; two weeks before Hagrid broke down the door to explain to him that he was a wizard.

He'd have plenty of time to go to Gringots and sort out his affairs as well as acquire everything and anything he'd need that was not on the list for first years before hand. The one thing he'd have to sort out quickly was whether or not the Hermione of this time was his Hermione.

They'd planned it all out before hand, and Hermione had drilled her home number into his head so many times that not even travelling back 11 years into the past would be able to erase it; making sure that reaching her would be a simple matter for Harry. Getting the Dursleys to let him use the phone, however, was a rather different matter.

Oh the Dursleys, Harry thought with grim satisfaction. They'll have no idea what hit them. Well, Harry amended, Vernon won't.

They'd had many arguments about when was the best time to go back to; but with so much that needed to be changed they'd eventually settled on the idea that the beginning was probably the best place to start. So much needed to be fixed, he thought grimly.

"Up, up!" he heard Petunia screech as pounded on his cupboard door. Starting with his remaining family members, he though wryly. He and Dudley had actually developed a sort of casual friendship after the dementor attack in fifth year that had brought them closer. Then when his daughter was born and, to Vernon and Petunia's eternal horror, bore signs of being magical; Dudley had seeked out Harry's help, even made him the child's godfather, and they'd become close.

This time he'd be able to pull him out of his parent's choking clutches much sooner; spoilt rotten the poor boy wasn't really any better off than Harry at this point. Treated like a baby and smothered into obesity… Harry shuddered. At least the Dursleys hadn't done that to him.

Yes, he reflected as a grim smile touched his lips; the Dursleys were in for quite a surprise.

* * *

Harry got up and quickly dressed, reminding himself that he needed to buy new daywear from a muggle clothes shop after he went to Diagon alley. Dudley's rags really didn't suit him, and there was no need for him to go to Hogwarts dressed like a hobo this time round.

He walked into the kitchen and saw Vernon sitting alone at the table, reading a newspaper. Deciding he really didn't feel much like cooking for the walrus, he grabbed ingredients from the fridge and, ignoring Vernon's barked greeting of, "comb your hair boy!" hopped up onto the counter besides the stove and proceeded to wandlessly charm the kitchen utensils into doing it for him. He sat there, comfortably munching on an apple as he waited for Vernon to notice that his kitchen was doing all the cooking. It was only when Petunia entered the room with a shriek that Vernon looked up and flipped out.

"What the blazes do you think you're doing boy?" he roared just as Dudley waddled into the kitchen. Perfect timing, thought Harry. He may just enjoy this little show. Deciding to try and reach Dudley sooner rather than later, he gave his confused cousin a wink before answering his enraged looking uncle.

"Cooking breakfast," responded Harry coolly. "What's the matter?"

"What's the matter?" bellowed Vernon, his pupils dilating as Harry could have sworn some steam leaked out of his left nostril.

Deciding to go all out, Harry looked at him and questioned innocently, "What's the matter with using a bit of magic to speed up the process?"

Now he'd done it. Used the "m" word; this would be interesting. Surprisingly, Dudley looked more intrigued than anything else. Hmmm, Harry mused distractedly, perhaps if Hagrid hadn't given him so much of a scare, things could have gone down much smoother between him and his cousin.

"HOW DARE YOU UTTER SUCH NONSENSE UNDER MY ROOF?" screamed Uncle Vernon, his face turning a very interesting shade of lilac, "I SWEAR I'M GOING TO BEA –" He was cut off rather abruptly as Harry cast a wandless silencing charm with a small wave of his hand.

Dudley had a peculiar mixture of terror and hilarity written across his face as he regarded his father screaming soundlessly at Harry, stomping around enraged until he tripped over the couch and went sprawling, the force of his enormous bulk hitting the floor enough to rather effectively knock him out cold. Chocking on his laughter Harry took a couple minutes to calm himself as Petunia simply stood there, still as a statue as if stunned.

Seizing the opportunity, Harry glanced slyly at Dudley. "Want to see something cool?" Harry asked him. Hesitantly, Dudley slowly nodded his blubbery head.

Harry sent him a grin before turning to the now crispy strips of bacon and charming the to hop onto the table, playing catch with a couple of quickly enchanted quaffle raisins. As Petunia blacked out, Dudley broke into peals of laughter as Harry proceeded to make the eggs do flips.

Dudley slowly came closer, and Harry settled the food onto the table before serving himself generously.

"You sure that's ok to eat?" asked Dudley rather quietly, still slightly unsettled by this sudden 'new Harry'.

"Well, not dead yet, am I?" grinned Harry as he dove into his food.

* * *

At first the conversation was rather awkward considering how Dudley usually only socialized with Harry if it was to beat him up with his friends, but after a couple of jokes and nervous false starts, the tension eased slightly and the boys became a little more comfortable.

Dudley was fascinated by magic, and pressed Harry for demonstrations and details. Watching him closely, Harry noticed the small bud of jealousy when it appeared in his eye, and switched the conversation towards Dudley's passion for punching things. At this the boy became embarrassed and the glint disappeared; and although Harry knew that it was Vernon who paid him in the beginning to hassle Harry, Dudley was unaware that particular fact had been shared.

"Listen," he began awkwardly, obviously nervous Harry would now seek to extract some sort of revenge upon him for his behavior. But Harry brushed him off, "I think you'd be a really good boxer."

Dudley stared at him, then sighed and choked out, "really?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, confused by his cousin's reaction, "I mean, you're good at bashing stuff and you've got the build for it."

Dudley seemed to grin, "I asked Mom last year if I could enroll in it as an afterschool activity type of thing, but she flipped out and went on a rant about how there was no way she'd sit by and watch me get beaten to a pulp." The bitterness in his voice surprised Harry.

"I can't even watch a particular TV show without her OK," Dudley continued as if he'd been longing to get this off his chest for a long time. "I can't do much sport because I might get tired, can't talk to a girl cause I might get hurt, can't read any books because she wants me to have fun."

Harry simply stared at his cousin, shocked. He'd known that Dudley was never happy with his parents, he'd told him that much in the future before (boy that's confusing), but he'd never shared details.

"Wow," was all Harry could think to say. Then he mentally kicked himself. "You know, sometimes I wonder if I didn't get the better end of the deal."

Dudley smiled.

They continued talking – amazingly Petunia and Vernon were still completely dead to the world – and Dudley admitted to how Vernon had first set him up to make Harry miserable, and Harry remembered the address of the place Dudley had gone to work out at later-before.

Then Dudley did something that really surprised Harry; he looked across at him and said, "I'm sorry." Then, nervously, stuck out his hand and questioned, "Friends?"


	3. Chapter 3

_So sorry it's been so long! Moving across continents can do that to you…_

_Anyways, I still own nothing! This entire world belongs to the fabulous J.K.R.!_

**Chapter 2**

When Petunia and Vernon began to stir, Harry had decided to go out for a while leaving his relatives with a son who was regarding them as if he was seeing them for the first time, a protective mental shield of awareness now distancing him from his parents. He'd looked at them once before climbing the stairs to his bedroom to sign up to the gym Harry had suggested on line, as well as read some of the books from his second bedroom he'd never had the opportunity to touch. He'd told a rather shaken looking Petunia he was going upstairs to get some rest, and been pleasantly surprised at how well she'd swallowed the lie.

Harry had quickly slipped out of the house and was now headed for the telephone booth two blocks away to call Hermione with some cash Dudley had surprisingly slipped him when he'd asked. Things were really shaping out differently than before.

He felt the weight of nervousness settling in the pit of his stomach as he stood in the booth, his hand dreading to touch the dials that would spin Hermione's number. What if she hadn't come back with him? What if he'd lost her?

He closed his eyes at the brief flash of pain that shot through his heart at the very thought of it. No, he couldn't lose her. She had to be here, she just had to. Stealing himself, he decided that if she… if she wasn't, he wouldn't wait for her to go through all that crap with Ron first.

But it wouldn't be the same – she wouldn't have gone through everything he had, suffered along side him and been there every step of the way. Kept the group together as they repelled Death Eater and Death Eater; seen him struggle against Voldemort, saved Sirius in third year, helped him through the tournament, been there after Dumbledore's death, stayed with him throughout the Horcrux hunt, understood and loved him like no one else.

He suddenly felt extremely alone, unsure. He couldn't do this by himself.

His fingers deftly dialed the number.

* * *

"Hello?"

It was a male voice that picked up the phone; Harry's numb brain dimly registering that it must be Mr. Granger as he replied, "Hello, I was wondering if I could please speak to Hermione Granger?" he asked, "We have to work together on a science project." He added quickly, hating himself for implying that such a wonderful person could be a nuisance he was obliged to accommodate into his life, but knew that at this point in time she'd had no friends.

"Just a second," was the weary reply.

Harry waited, heat pounding painfully in his chest as he considered hanging up. Then a light voice he knew so well pierced his thoughts, filled with worry and uncertainty, "H- Harry?"

* * *

"Mione!" Harry exclaimed. "Oh thank Goodness!"

"Oh Harry!" Hermione babbled, relief obvious in her voice, "I'd begun to think I'd somehow messed it up again, come back without you, that I'd lost you just like Ginny, Neville, Luna and Ron; that I'd never see you again! You didn't call me right away; I've been waiting for hours now! Harry James Potter, that wasn't nice! I thought … I need to see you now!"

Harry was grinning like a maniac as he let her rant, knowing that she wasn't actually mad at him.

"You should come over right now! McGonagall's coming over any moment to explain everything to me and give me my letter, but I know you can't be here while she is cause then Hagrid wouldn't come to you and well we need to keep things as similar as possible for as long as we can – "

"So that we can use our knowledge of the future effectively," Harry finished for her. He could have sworn he felt her blush slightly on the other end of the line.

"Uh, well, right," she mumbled, "I've only told you that about a thousand times. Sorry Harry," she muttered rather sheepishly.

He grinned, "No problem Mione. You know I wouldn't get very far without you."

"Cut the soppy crap and get yourself over here. I'll let you in through the back after she's left," she laughed, "We can catch up later at Diagon alley."

"Right. I love you Mione," Harry said softly.

* * *

When Harry arrived at Hermione's house, he saw her waiting in the back garden, reading a book outside on the steps. The sunlight streamed through the leaves of a large maple on her left, falling on her bushy hair and lithe figure as she sat, hunched over a copy of Hogwarts, A History that presumably McGonagall had left her with as a first step to familiarizing herself with the wizarding world.

"Mione," he called out to her softly, a huge grin splitting his features at the sight of her. She looked up, and her beautiful brown orbs met his startling green ones, love, joy and relief prominent in both.

She closed 'Hogwarts, A History' and with a small squeal of "Harry!" ran into his arms and kissed him with much more passion than a simple eleven-year-old ought to be able to contain. For a moment, he allowed himself to just stand there and hold her close, sinking into the moment and never having to let go.

"We did it!" she stated, leaning her fuzzy head against his much too bony shoulder. "We're back."

"Both of us." Harry agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

_I still own nothing ! It all belongs to J.K.R J_

**Chapter 3**

"Right, so first stop's Gringots," Harry muttered as he and Hermione were walking through muggle London towards the leaky cauldron.

Mione had introduced Harry to her parents as a young wizard who lived in the area that McGonagall had sent over to answer some of Hermione's questions and help her adjust to this dramatic turn her life had quite suddenly taken. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had accepted this turn of events with grateful smiles in Harry's direction, and had allowed the two children to go out for a walk to have a chance to talk things out.

"Take all the time you need dears," had been Mrs. Granger's parting words as she handed Hermione some money that we were to use for sandwiches for lunch.

They chatted amiably throughout the walk, reminiscing of old times and trying to remember in detail the events of the upcoming year. As they slipped into Diagon alley after an elderly which (they themselves had no wands yet, and had only realized that they would have to wait for someone to let them in when they reached the stone wall that blocked their path), Harry was mentally making a list of everything they'd need and trying to sort out what they could get now and what would be better to wait for to do with Hagrid, or in Hermione's case, with her parents later on in the week.

"No wands yet," Mione moaned regretfully as they passed Olivanders, and Harry realized with a pang he should let Hagrid buy him Hedwig.

"I'm going to buy Croockshanks as soon as my parents take me here," she continued, "I'm not waiting until third year again to get that cat!" Harry grinned, knowing that Hermione had a similar bond with Croockshanks as he did with Hedwig. They were, at least in their opinion, no ordinary pets.

Moving into Gringots, Harry was careful to steer them over to Griphooks' desk, waiting until he had finished dealing with a rather foul smelling black-haired wizard. He approached cautiously at a signal, Hermione trailing slightly behind and glancing almost continuously downwards. Harry knew that she was thinking of their wild ride on the dragon that most certainly was already trapped down there, and Harry had a random hope that she wouldn't redo the SPEW episode now that she had a better understanding of house-elves. A slight cough from Griphook jerked his attention back to the matter at hand, and he said softly but firmly, "I'd like to see my vaults."

Griphook raised an eyebrow, and I had to imagine how ridiculous this would seem from his perspective; two slight eleven-year olds behaving like they were 25, demanding to see heaps of treasure lying deep beneath the bank, and I mentally sighed.

"And you would be…?" inquired the goblin.

"Harry James Potter." He probably suspects pollyjuice, Harry reflected wryly as the goblin studied him carefully and made him drop a small sample of his blood onto a sheet besides his signature. After all, that's what I'd be inclined to think.

"And does Mr. Potter have his key?"

Ah. The key.

Hermione stepped forward and placed an exact copy she'd conjured up earlier from memory, down to using the same metallic blend with a little extra rust for dramatic effect. Mentally, he brushed a thought against her occlumency shields. 'I'm dead serious Mione; what would I do without you?'

'At the moment?' she thought back, grinning slyly at Harry, 'Not too much.'

* * *

All the nerves in his body tensed in that instant, as Griphooks long lanky fingers grasped the metallic key. Hermione's breath was coming in quiet; quick gasps as she failed to smother her jogging heart. This was their first gamble, and although after having given it a huge amount of thought and gone over every little detail they could think of and every possible reaction Griphook could have; goblins are, have been and will always be notoriously unpredictable.

As Griphook brought the key up to eye level, Harry caught a quick glimpse of his dark orbs widening in shock before a well-practiced mask slammed into place, freezing his features into giving away not the slightest hint of emotion. The change from his earlier demeanor was almost imperceptible, but Harry had been looking for it and let out an inaudible groan.

He knew.

It had been too much to hope for that he simply wouldn't have noticed the difference, right? But perhaps it was better this way. Griphook had, after all, turned out to be a valuable ally before hand and if they managed to get him on their side sooner this time he could prove to be a valuable asset once again. However, if they screwed this up…

"Well then, follow me," the goblins raspy voice snapped Harry out of his worries, turning his head in slight surprise to follow Griphook. Perhaps they were being led somewhere private for the inevitable interrogation as to why they had an almost exact copy of Harry's Gringots key instead of the original.

But Griphook instead led them towards the cart and drove down through the tunnels to Harry's trust vault. Inserting the key into the lock, it turned and opened – the only surprise noticeable on Griphooks features was a barely raised left eyebrow. Harry was perplexed as too his lack of reaction and thankfully Hermione, ever practical, took out two bottomless moneybags and began scooping in piles of gallons for both Harry and herself. There was a time when she would have argued about taking what was rightfully only Harry's, but that protest had been squished long ago when she'd voiced her discomfort to Harry as he pulled her into his arms and simply told her that, 'what's mine, is ours'. She'd broke into tears at that – it had been a particularly stressful day; just after her first failed attempt to send them back.

Her eyes locked with Harry's as she finished shoving in all the money they needed, and he motioned her to climb back beside him into the cart. She was fidgeting slightly, twirling one of her long, bushy locks between her fingers, tugging at it slightly in her anxiety. Why was Griphook simply doing, well, … nothing?

They'd reached the top of the bank, and Harry was helping a slightly green Mione down from the cart when Griphook turned around, locking his eyes into Harrys.

"Mr. Potter," the goblin said softly, " I do not know why, nor how for that matter, you have come today with an almost exact unauthorized duplicate instead of your original key. As this key was successful today at opening your vault, it has become the dominant key and the other has been dissolved, as it is no longer needed. Do not loose this one."

With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into one of the back rooms leaving his two stunned clients standing there, stranded in the middle of the large room until their feet began moving them towards the exit.

'Damn unpredictable Goblins!' Hermione's thoughts brushed against Harry's and he couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of his mouth as they quickly scrambled down the Gringots stairs and back into the relative shelter of the ever-milling crowd of witches and wizards in Diagon Alley.


	5. Chapter 5

_So sorry it's been so long! Moving across continents can do that to you…_

_Anyways, I still own nothing! This entire world belongs to the fabulous J.K.R.!_

**Chapter 4**

They meandered around Diagon Alley, shopping for all the things that they would need that would not be found on their first year lists – such as a miniature (and very expensive) portable pensive, advanced potions materials and crystal cauldrons, Auror level books, high security, walk-in, multi-compartment trunks and a couple other odds and ends.

After eating an ice cream, they exited the leaky cauldron and did some clothes shopping in the muggle world. Harry needed a complete new wardrobe, and Hermione took advantage of the time to renew her entire wardrobe as well, upon Harry's insistence, as her choice of style at this age had been … rather poor.

Enough purchases to fill their rooms wandlessly shrunk and stuck in their pockets, they moved on to shoes, and Harry dragged Hermione over to the make-up section (thankfully the Potter vaults had been filled with some muggle money as well – upon Lily's insistence, Harry had discovered). Determined Hermione would fit in with the other girls, Harry also bought her a bottle of perfume and a hair straightener.

They next went and bought some muggle notebooks, pens and pencils – both had agreed that it was a lot simpler than fighting the non-self inking quills until they were able to get to Hogsmeed. Actually, they were simply easier to use in general.

Harry also bought two ipods that Hermione was determined to manage to get working in the magical world. After all, she'd have plenty of spare time on her hands once they reached Hogwarts where she'd need to pretend to be studying to account for the astonishing grades she'd get. Especially considering she could pass all the exams years 1 through 6 in her sleep.

"Right," Harry muttered softly. "Back to Gringots."

* * *

They'd waited to do the really important errands until the afternoon, when there would be the most people about in the alley. Slipping back in behind an elderly witch, they once again found themselves in line behind Griphooks desk. The goblin merely raised an eyebrow in seeing them again so soon.

"_Master Griphook, if you would, I would appreciate speaking with you in private." _Harry said quietly, in fluent Gobblygook. He was rewarded with two raised eyebrows as Griphook merely stood, motioning for the two to follow him.

"_Am I correct to believe," _Harry stated when they'd entered a private chamber, _"That you are the Goblin who manages the Potter accounts?"_

"_I am."_

"_Would you be able to bring me to visit the main Potter vault – not the one holding gallons, I understand that I do not have access to that until I turn 14 – but the heirloom vault."_

"_Of course. If I may ask, where did you learn Gobblygook, Mr. Potter?"_

"_That is a tale for a different time, master Griphook." _Harry replied, glancing over to Hermione.

"_And my I request that this visit be kept private? And I mean, completely private?"_

Griphook regarded him with a shard of approval and curiosity in his eyes. _"Of course. We value our client's confidentiality greatly."_

"_Thank you, master Griphook."_

And at this, the goblin looked thoroughly startled. Harry sighed mentally; trust the 'Thank you' to throw him off balance – not a fake key, two eleven year olds conversing in Gobblygook, nor a request for privacy.

The Goblin seemed to regard him contemplatively for a moment, before speaking once again.

"_And does Mr. Potter have his key? Or perhaps, another illegal replica?"_

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized this was the Goblin's endeavor at a gentle joke. Harry took it in his stride, smiling slightly as he replied, "_I'm afraid I simply haven't had the time – blood will suffice, I hope?"_

The Goblin smiled.

* * *

"_None but Potter blood may enter_," Griphook cautioned as they stepped out onto the platform near the vault.

"_I know. Thank you for the warning though,"_ Hermione replied, and Griphook stared before shaking his head at the fact that two mere eleven year olds were fluent in Gobblygook and polite. This was turning into one truly bizzar day.

Harry moved forward, resting his hand against the door. It clicked open, and he stepped within the vault. Torches blazed to light as soon as he entered the vault, Griphook and Hermione standing in the doorway as they took in the sight before them. The vault was probably the size of a small cathedral.

"How on earth am I ever going to find anything in here," Harry muttered as stared incredulously around the room. He'd never been down to this vault before – he hadn't exactly been very welcome at Gringots after destroying the roof by freeing a dragon, robbing a vault and all that. And before the incident, he'd never had an opportunity nor known of its existence in the first place.

"_There's a manual to your left – a sort of vault catalogue if you will." _Griphook suggested in a rare moment of volunteering information.

Harry wandlessly summoned said volume, and Hermione merely shrugged as she saw Griphooks expression figuring that with the amount he'd already seen, knowing Harry could do wandless magic wasn't going to change much.

"Aha!" Harry exclaimed as he opened it, "Thank you master Griphook. Now… let's see, what to look for first."

"Harry," Hermione called out, an idea suddenly striking her, "You don't think… you don't think Lily and James might have, you know, left portraits behind?"

Harry's face snapped up to stare at her, his eyes wide. "Why on earth has this never crossed my mind before?!"

Hermione merely gave him a smile, and Harry lifted the book, touching a page he said, "Lily Potter's portrait."

The effect was immediate. The book glowed with power, and the words Harry had spoken appeared in a golden script along the page. Touching the words, there was a flash of light and a large canvas flew towards him from the back of the vault.

A rather started looking woman and man were clinging to each other in the frame, stumbling from the rather bumpy ride they'd just experienced.

They stared at Harry, the portrait hovering midair in front of him. Harry stared at them. They stared at Harry.

"Oh Harry!" It was Hermione who cried out, tears spilling down her cheeks as she observed the reunion. Finally, finally!

"H… Harry?" the woman, Lily spoke up.

"Course – he looks just like me." James added, a smile on his face. Suddenly Lily was weeping, pressed against the frame, reaching out towards her son and Harry was clutching the portrait close, as though if he held it tight enough he'd be able to feel them. Hermione was crying as hard as Lily by now, the entire scene playing out before her utterly heart renching. She wanted to hold Harry, to hug and comfort him, but she knew she couldn't cross the threshold of the vault.

Eventually Harry sat on the floor, placing the frame in front of him, angling it so Hermione could see as well. Griphook had withdrawn in order to give them some privacy.

"Hello Mum. Dad." Harry choked out.

"Hi Son."

Harry took a deep calming breath, steadying himself, his gaze turning to Hermione for help. Unable to stand seeing him so desperate, Hermione moved forward instinctively, rushing forward to hold Harry in her arms.

Griphooks startled cry turned to a quiet exclamation of surprise when the vault accepted her presence.

"_Chosen?!"_ he muttered, "_At eleven years of age_?"

Harry simply smiled, pulling Hermione down into his lap as he held her tightly, drawing comfort from her presence.

"Harry?" Lily's voice broke the silence. "Would you introduce us?"

"Sorry," Harry responded immediately, "This is Hermione – the most wonderful, intelligent, beautiful witch you've ever met."

"Only you would go give a girl an introduction like that," Hermione muttered, blushing deeply.

"I only speak the truth," Harry replied, completely serious.

Hermione buried her face in his shoulder. "Now see if I give a nice, accurate rundown of your abilities to my parents this evening!"

"That depends, what scale of abilities are you talking about?"

"_Griphook!"_ Hermione called out, "_Would it be all right to erect a temporary silencing charm – wandlessly of course – to have a private family reunion? I don't want to be rude, but some things are rather personal."_

"_Of course not – I'll wait by the cart."_ Griphook replied, not even questioning for an instant that she belonged in the family meeting.


	6. Chapter 6

_And here's a special treat for having taken so long to update – another (albeit short) chappie!_

_Once again, I own nothing. Harry Potter still and always will belong to the wonderful J.K.R.!_

**Chapter 5**

Hermione whacked Harry upside the head as soon as she'd erected silencing and privacy charms around the vault.

"Ow, what was that for?" Harry exclaimed with mock hurt as Lily and James watched the scene unfold with curiosity and amusement.

"For giving them extremely high expectations of an ordinary girl!"

"Ordinary?! Says the girls who got Os on all her OWLs?!"

"This is coming from the boy who single handedly defeated Moldy what, seven no eight times?!"

"And I would have died the first time round if you hadn't been there! We never would've even gotten past the devil's snare!"

"What about the tournament?"

"You helped me every step of the way! Even when Ron abandoned me – just like during out Horcrux hunt – you were there for me every step of the way. Hermione, love, I love you. You're a brilliant, wonderful, yes – the most incredible witch I've ever had the honor of meeting – and I had to wait so long to tell you. All those years Mione, all those years… I wouldn't have survived without you."

"Harry James Potter! Don't you dare even try to lay all this on me! You defeated the basilisk in the chamber of secrets, you were the one who saved the philosophers stone!"

"You're the reason we saved Sirius! I didn't even know time-turners existed!"

"You fought him off! After watching Cedric die, you still fought him off!"

"You were the one who figured out how to get us out of Gringots on that dragon! You taught me the summoning spell for the fourth task!"

"You are the one who figured out how to get us into Gringots in the first place! You damn moron walked into those woods WITHOUT EVEN DRWING YOUR WAND! YOU BLOODY DAMN DIED HARRY! YOU LET HIM KILL YOU! I… I lost you!" Hermione was sobbing now, clutching Harry's shirt; holding him close.

Even after all these years, she still had nightmares about it. Seeing his body, limp and lifeless in Hagridʼs arms… She sobbed harder, and Harry pulled her in close.

"But I came back. I'm here Mione, I'll never leave you again. I promise. I'm sorry love, I'm so, so sorry." He murmured, rocking her gently back and forth.

"I'm so sorry love."

Hermione eventually calmed down slightly. "I love you too Harry. I'm sorry, I don't even know what we were arguing about – I just… I can't loose you again, I can't…"

Harry cut her off with a kiss. A deep kiss, holding her close and showing her how much he loved her, needed her; how much she meant to him. How he couldn't do it without her.

Lily sighed contentedly, and James (ever delicate) decided he couldn't wait any longer. "Could someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on?!"

Lily hit him upside the head with a wink at Hermione. "Language James!"

* * *

"So here we are. Stuck in our eleven year old bodies once again – with a chance to either screw everything up or fix the world." Harry concluded.

Needless to say, James and Lily were now sitting in their portraits, their heads slightly reeling with the information they'd just been given.

"I … wow. Just wow." James muttered.

"You said it," Lily agreed.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle lightly as he regarded his shaken parents. Then remembered that Griphook still awaited them outside.

"Mum, Dad," Harry asked, grinning at the fact that he was able to say those words, "Is there anything in particular I ought to grab from this vault? Besides your portrait, of course."

"Yes, ask the book for the rubies of Illean. They resemble the philosophers stone if I recall – save the Flamels if you can, they're old family friends."

"Oh and dear," Lily added, "Take Hermione to go look at the jewelry section. You might find her a ring that'll please you both."

Harry grinned, "I could finally make it official, couldn't I?" Hermione blushed and grinned, and Lily and James smiled at the happy couple.

"Besides, they have certain … benefits you may find incredibly useful." Lily added.

* * *

Together, Harry and Hermione picked out a smooth platinum ring, with a hazel topaz and an emerald twisted together across the surface, interspersed with twinkling diamonds.

"Oh! That's perfect!" Lily exclaimed when they showed it to her. "Looks like was made for the two of you!"

Harry smiled, and bending down on one knee proclaimed, "Since this is a new time, I might as well ask again. Hermione Jean Granger, would you marry me?"

"Of course."

They kissed again, and Hermione added with a slight chuckle, "Need you really ask?"

"It's polite."

Laughter filled the vault as Harry shrunk his parent's portrait, and holding Hermione's hand, cancelled the spells and lead her out of the vault.

"Oh, and Harry?" James called out, just before they stepped beyond the doors. "If you're going to do this twice, do it with style. Turn Hogwarts upside down son."


	7. Chapter 7

_I apologize for the length of time it's been since I've last updated – but hey, I've finally condensed the last couple chappies into entries of proper lengths; and no matter how long it takes, I swear that I __**will**____finish this story!_

_As per usual, I still own nothing! It all belongs to J.K.R J_

_And many thanks to _skyesmommy_ for getting me off my butt and pushing me to keep writing!_

_And a very Merry Christmas to everyone! _

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Harry stuck his hands into his new jean pockets as he walked down the road back towards number 4 Privet Drive, as prepared as he'd ever be to face the music.

He'd spent an altogether rather draining afternoon with Hermione, both emotionally and physically as their eleven year old bodies were sadly out of shape compared to the battle toned figures they'd worked so hard to attain during the war. Those were going to be fun to get back… Harry sighed; they certainly wouldn't be lacking in projects.

He recalled how kind and welcoming 'Mione's parents had been when they'd returned late that afternoon; how grateful they were to him for explaining to Hermione some of the aspects of wizarding culture, and how excited her mother was at the prospect of Hermione having finally made a friend. A brief flash of guilt flitted across his conscience, but it was quickly soothed when he thought of all the pain they'd be preventing. They'd explain everything in the long run, especially since they were practically his family as well – but they just weren't ready to hear that their 11-year-old daughter was actually engaged and 23 from the future in an alternate dimension, and had travelled back in time to be the savior of the people.

He just couldn't imagine that going down very well.

Still lost in thought, a small smile on his features as he envisioned the likely facial expressions of the elder Grangers when they explained things to them, and Hermione's thrilled smile when he'd slipped that ring on her finger, he barely noticed as his feet turned down the driveway out of sheer habit.

He did, however, notice when he walked right into a large, warm lump of something that sent him backwards onto his rump.

"Oh, sorry Harry!" Dudley exclaimed, hovering uncertainly in front of him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before sending a quick glance to the quiet house before stretching out a hand to help him up.

Harry blinked. Things were certainly shaping out differently with Dudley this time around.

"No problem Big D," he responded with a grin, grabbing the offered hand to help heave his weary body up off the pavement.

"Big D?" Dudley repeated slowly, as if tasting the nickname. Harry closed his eyes, quietly cursing himself for having let old future habits take over – but Dudley was smiling.

"Big D! I like that. Thanks Harry!"

Deciding to test still uncertain waters, Harry asked, "better than Diddykinns at least?"

Dudley looked at Harry oddly, head tilted to one side in careful consideration. "Oh hell yeah."

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" It was Vernon, bellowing purple faced from the doorstep as he took in the sight of his son and the Freak laughing together in the driveway.

The laughter immediately subsided, and Dudley closed his eyes and sighed.

"CUPBOARD! Get to your cupboard RIGHT NOW Freak! You have no right to just disappear all day, leaving your poor aunt with all the work! Cupboard, RIGHT NOW before I decided to teach you just how much I hate you right now!"

Harry couldn't help his shoulders sagging slightly under the poisonous tone of his uncle's venomous words. He knew he shouldn't care, but it still hurt.

But he had a message to send home, and he squared his shoulders, turning slightly in order to face his uncle full on.

"Nope."

He made sure to pop the p.

* * *

Vernon's face turned a lovely puce color, and Harry was softly counting down the seconds until the outburst came. Dudley had one hand clamped firmly over his mouth when Harry's quiet, "and… zero." coincided precisely with Vernon's outburst of, "Now you listen here FREAK - "

That was as far as he got before Harry lazily waved his hand, wandlessly silencing his Uncle mind sentence. Then hovering his massive bulk, he moved his uncle back into the house, plopping him down in the sitting room. Petunia burst in and began to shriek in her high-pitched shrills, but surprising it was Dudley who burst out, "Oh be quiet!" that silenced her speechless before Harry even got the chance.

Sending a grateful smile his cousins' way, Harry turned towards his mute guardians.

"Alright. Now I am going to make this very clear. I am not a Freak, I am a wizard."

Vernon and Petunia both flinched violently, and Dudley merely looked confused by their reactions.

Harry's patience finally burst, years of pain and neglect surfacing to the forefront of his mind. "MAGIC! Magic, magic, wizard, magic, wizard, MAGIC!"

That apparently proved to be too much for the poor couple, as their eyes rolled back and they slumped once again into unconsciousness.

Closing his eyes, Harry growled softly in frustration. For three seconds, an eerie silence permeated the room, only to be broken by three simultaneous exclamations of, "Seriously?!"

Wait… Three?

* * *

Dudley stiffened, glancing around the room in search of the source of the two other voices, which continued muttering angrily and cursing in such colorful language that it would probably have made Mad-eye Moody blush.

He decided that since Harry didn't really look very concerned, he probably knew what was going on perhaps would explain it.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" The shriek Dudley now identified as coming… from Harry's pocket?

"YOU LET ME AT HER RIGHT NOW! YOU HEAR ME YOUNG MAN! RIGHT NOW!"

Harry winced slightly, turning to Dudley and mouthing 'sorry bout this' before pulling out a moving painting. Dudley was instantly fascinated. The dark mahogany wooden frame stretched nearly a meter and a half wide when Harry placed his hand on it, and two very angry people stood scowling inside it.

The woman had violently red hair and stunning green eyes, while the man looked eerily familiar. Ah. Harry. The man looked like Harry, with hazel eyes.

"Erm, Harry?" Dudley ventured timidly, unsure if it would direct the wrath of the picture things towards himself by doing so.

"Sorry Big D, where are my manners? Meet my parents."

Dudley stared for a second; trying to wrap his brain around this new development as the figure's angry eyes turned to assess him.

"Erm, your … real parents? I mean, dea… err…"

Lily's eyes softened slightly at the sight of the nervous young man, "Yes dear. His dead parents – though only a part of us preserved in a portrait. It's a bit complicated."

Dudley's eyes were large. "But… how?"

Harry chuckled. "Stay with us Big D."

Dudley blinked, mentally pushing 'living portrait of Harry's long dead parents that moves and talks' into the 'don't question or think about too much' category.

He shrugged, then remembered the manners his mother had made him use when his father had guests. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Dudley." He stuck out his hand to shake before remembering he was talking to a portrait, and flushed in embarrassment.

"Oh hush you." Lily scolded, as James was bent almost double with laughter. "I'm Lily Potter, Harry's mother."

"And I'm James. His dad. It's a pleasure to meet you, distantly related muggle."

"James!" Lily scolded, with laughter in her voice.

Dudley glanced at Harry, "Muggle?"

"Non-magic person."

Oh. "Right."

"Now, Harry dear, evenarate your dearest Aunt so that we can have a sisterly chat that's long overdue…"

Part of Dudley felt a little sorry for his mom upon seeing the look in his… (Aunt's?) eye, and yet another part of this was demanding that he just had to stay and watch this unfold.


End file.
